


A Hard Day's Night

by Toodentz



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:26:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toodentz/pseuds/Toodentz
Summary: Murdoc is working again and you're getting impatient. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to send some temptation his way?





	A Hard Day's Night

You take a drag off your cigarette. The night air is cold against your skin, cooling you as you vent your smoke through the open window. You hear a shuffling of paper as he stands from his desk, only to take the cigarette from your lips wordlessly before taking a drag and returning it, turning to walk back to his desk. You know not to bother him when he’s busy. He’s never told you before, you just know how he gets when he’s writing. You place the cigarette between your lips and breathe in, tasting the hint of whiskey left behind by him. You let the taste linger, wondering if his lips taste like whiskey, too. He shuffles again and groans, and you watch him bury his hand in his hair as his other twiddles a pen between his fingers. Your eyes settle on the back of his neck, exposed and teasing you. But you know better. You know he’s busy.

You sigh quietly and look over his room. Empty bottles litter the floor, a few unhung paintings lay in the corner and his sheets are tangled and messy. I wonder how much it would take to get him into those, you think to yourself. But no, you can’t. You can’t bother him. Or can you? It’s not like you’ve ever tried.

You sigh a little louder and you see him shift his eyes quickly to you, but he turns back to his work. You stand up and stretch your arms, twisting your body around in an enticing manner. You saunter over to his desk, wordless. He’s scribbling on a piece of paper, hand still buried in his hair. You pick up the glass of whiskey on his desk and pour yourself a glass, quietly tipping the bottle into his mug when you’re done. This gets his attention, but only barely.

“Thanks, love.” He mumbles before scribbling again, this time with his eyes nowhere near the paper. You slowly walk to the other side of his desk, admiring the paper inquisitively. He watches you from the corner of his eye. His eyes trace the outline of your body, covered by nothing but some underwear and an old t-shirt of his. It had been a long day and you’d been keeping him company. Lord knows you’re the only one he can trust not to ruin his flow. Or so he thought.

“How’s it coming?” You purr, leaning just the right amount over his shoulder. You hope he notices what you’re doing but you’re doubtful. You’ve never tried interrupting him before.

“Not so well,” he sighs, leaning back into his chair and into you by accident. He hadn’t realized you were so close, but he doesn’t correct himself. You place your hands on his shoulders and work your hands to massage them. “I just can’t get this line.”

“Let me take a look,” you say, leaning your head over his shoulder so that you’re breathing on his neck. You pay no attention to his reaction as you pretend to read. “That’s a line all right,” you say, trying not to laugh at your blatant disregard to what he’s doing. He raises an eyebrow, side-eyeing you as you drop closer to his skin.

“Any suggestions?” He smirks, catching on to what you’re trying. He decides to play dumb, just to see how far you’re willing to go.

“I do have a few suggestions…” You giggle and wrap your arms tightly around to the front of his chest, your hand slowly travelling down his chest. “You could take a break, get some inspiration.” He smirks.

“Love, you have a completely different kind of inspiration than what I’m looking for, sorry to tell you.” He toys with you, but you know what he’s doing. You know his tricks.

“How do you know?” You lean into him, placing a soft kiss between his neck and shoulder. You can tell he takes a sharp breath, but he hides it well. You let your lips drag across his skin and your arms tighten. His hands begin to move upward to touch you, but he stops himself, not wanting to give into your temptations. “You know I like to concentrate when I write,” he says with a fake irritation in his tone. “You don’t want to upset me, now, do you love?”

“Not at all,” you breathe, letting your breath roll onto his shoulder. You move one hand down his shoulder to expose more skin by his shoulders, trailing your kisses farther down as you focus on his breathing. “I just think you could use a refresher.”

He grabs your hands off his shoulders and turns his chair to face you. He looks you over before shaking his head, letting out a chuckle. “I could, or you could?” You bite your lip and smile at him.

“Well, I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to get a little mutual satisfaction.”

“Is that what I am to you?” He laughs again, his hair falling over his eyes, giving him a dark complexion.

“Satisfying? Yes…” You know what he likes to hear. He trails his hands up your thighs, letting his nails drag gently over the surface of your skin. You can feel your face getting hot, maybe you’ve got him this time.

“I knew that already. The way you squirm, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to work up the nerve to get my attention.” He’s fishing for compliments now, and you know it. But are you desperate enough to give in?

Yes.

“Murdoc…” you purr again, letting the syllables of his name drag out just the way he likes. “Don’t you think you could take a break just for a second?” His eyes stay shrouded behind his hair, keeping his face dark and strangely menacing. His smirk shows his teeth, and he moves his hands further up your thighs, pulling the t-shirt up slightly with it.  
“If I do that, you’re not going to have a good time. You’ve interrupted me, see, and I just don’t think I can let that slide.” His fingers tickle the skin above your waistband and he pulls you between his knees, finally looking up at you from his chair. You bring your forehead to rest against his, leaning against his nose and letting your lips hover over him. He could do his best, you’re used to him. Nothing he had in mind could possibly disappoint you.

“Do your worst.”

He stands upright, pulling you forcefully against him as he throws your shirt over your head. Before you can blink he’s walking forward, pushing you against the wall of his bedroom. He’s so forceful the vibration from the slam makes the desk lamp shake. His lips take over your own and he bites down, pulling away from you with your lip still between his teeth as he drags you along with him. You instinctively lean into him to follow his kiss but he grabs your shoulders, straightening you back up against the wall. His hands slide down your arms and hold you there, leaving you straining to remain close to the curve of his body. He steps back to admire you, looking you up and down to settle on the strained look on your face.

Your chest heaves with anticipation and you can feel yourself getting excited just from the look he’s giving you. He had moved so quickly that his sudden change of pace leaves you on edge. He steps away from you, slowly removing his shirt, then working at his belt. You step forward, eager to do the work for him but he holds up a single finger as if telling you no. He slows his pace because of your reaction, and you catch on quickly, stepping back against the wall and taking in the sight.

He slides off his jeans and thumbs the waistband of his underwear, eyeing you to gauge your reaction. You’re clearly anticipating him, your bottom lip between your teeth as your hands palm desperately at the wall behind your back. He beckons you with a wag of his finger. “You’d like this, wouldn’t you love?” You nod your head, focusing heavily on his next movements. You hate that he does this to you, but you know it’s always worth it in the end. You follow his silent instruction, stepping cautiously toward him. He grabs your hands and nods, giving you the go ahead to resume what you’re so desperately craving from him. You slide your hands past his waistband and slip his undergarment off, holding contact with his eyes. He places a finger beneath your chin before reaching below your own waistband, sliding his long fingers over your underexposed skin. He brings your face to his and lets his lips remain inches from you as he traces his fingers in a teasing slow circle above where you desperately want him to go. Your face echoes depravity, trying desperately not to do anything he wouldn’t want. After all, you begin to fear where this is going.

He bites into your neck, pulling his hips tightly against you as his as he slips his hand downward to where you so desperately craved it to be. You can feel him hard against your inner thigh, grinding into your hips as he weaves his fingers in and out of you expertly, brushing against your most sensitive spots when he pulls out. You throw away any sense of cation you had before, tangling your fingers into his hair and returning the hickeys he’d been giving you. He breathes heavy into your ear, the sound of him making your legs shake. He removes his hand and with a quick change pulls your thighs tight, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his as he holds you up against the wall. Holding your weight with one hand, he props one leg up under you to hold you up as his other hand continues its conquest. You grip him tightly, clinging to him like a life source. You can feel yourself getting weak, arms shaking as he rubs his fingers into you, first one, two, then three. “Is this what you were looking for?” He groans, syllables dragging in that low raspy growl that alone could bring you to your knees. You bite his lip in response, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth. He slips his tongue into your mouth, letting it dance against yours almost in balance with his fingers. His hips grinding against you in tandem with his fingers bringing you close to your edge, you begin to breathe heavily into his ear, clinging tightly. And that’s when he stops.

He drops your legs back to the ground and turns to walk away. You stumble, catching your balance and dropping your mouth wide open in shock. You struggle to find something to say as he nonchalantly takes a sip of his whiskey, leaning over his desk and stretching. He turns smugly to you, taking a cigarette out of a pack and reaching for a lighter.  
“I know you’re not about to smoke that,” you pander, knowing that’s his after-sex ritual. But you hadn’t gotten anywhere far enough to merit one of those.

“What? We’re done here, I’ve got to get back to work.” He grins devilishly, loving the discontent written across your face. You notice he hasn’t yet flicked the lighter. You decide to take a little control. Walking over to him, you take the cigarette from between his fingers and toss it across the room. You dig your lips into his neck and pull his bare midsection against you, feeling him once again pressing against your leg. He makes no effort to move but doesn’t stop you. Your hand reaches quickly down his stomach as you cup him hard in your hands. His chest heaves a bit, but he’s unfairly good at playing it cool.

“You’re not getting off until I get off,” you say, commanding his attention. You know asserting yourself over him drives him crazy.

“I’m busy, love, I’ve got better things to do.” He growls, contradicting himself by grabbing your backside and slamming himself against you. Oh no, he did not just say that.

“I’ll show you better things.”

You dig your teeth into the soft skin at the center of his neck. His head tosses back and he lets out a moan as you work your hands all the way up and down his length, grip tightening on him as you pull him forward forcing him to follow you. You turn him against the bed before pushing him full force backwards. He’s clearly surprised by your initiative, grinning wider than you’d ever seen, his eyes full.

“Look at you, taking what you want…” You kiss him hard and heavy, not willing to take any more of his shit talk. You straddle yourself over him and waste no time, sliding him into you as he brings his hips upwards instinctivey. You let out a low moan, tossing your head back as you move over him. He grips your waist, scraping his nails along your skin and pulling you forcefully down over him. Even when you’re in control, he’s in control.

“You couldn’t have done this yourself?” He’s trying to contain himself in his usual careless attitude but you can tell he’s slipping out of control. You lean over him, rolling your hips before rising up off him and back down again with finesse.

“Fuck. You.” You groan into his ear, feeling yourself getting weaker and less rhythmic.

“Hate to break it to you,” he drawls in response, reaching his hands into your hair and pulling tight, “but you already are.”

He takes you by surprise, gripping your hips and flipping you onto your back. He stands at the edge of the bed, dragging you back down to the end by your legs before taking you again, hard and heavy. His pace is fast, almost unbearable. He pins you by your hips, pulling and pushing you along with his heavy thrusts. You grip the sheets in your fists, practically holding back screams of uncontainable pleasure. His nails dig into your skin and he moans loud, speeding up even more than you thought he could. He’s eyes are shut tight and you can tell he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. He thrusts hard into you again it pushes you over, your body pulsing as you yell his name. He thrusts a few more times before pulling out right as he releases himself on your bare skin. His chest heaves and he falls over you, catching himself with his arms before pressing his forehead against yours.

“Next time,” he groans, raspy and out of breath. “Don’t disturb me unless you start off with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted at gorillaztrashimagines.tumblr.com


End file.
